Chapter 15
Chapter 15
L eo rode in a carriage once, when he was still young and na?ve enough to try and impress girls. He’d paid eighty bucks for a horse to drag them around a park while his date texted selfies to her friend the entire time.
That experience did nothing to prepare him for being chauffeured in an Amish buggy by Esther’s silent cousin. The boy was fourteen, if he was a day.
“Shouldn’t he be in school?” Leo whispered to Esther.
“He’s done with school,” she replied.
“How old is he?” he asked.
Esther studied the boy. “No idea. Must be past eighth grade, though. That’s when they quit going to school.”
“You don’t know how old your cousin is?” he asked.
“You realize I have about a hundred cousins,” she said, unconcerned. “You’re Jacob, right?” she said to the boy.
He gave her a curt nod, his eyes never leaving the road. He didn’t have to watch, the horse seemed to know the way. But his ruddy cheeks said he wasn’t used to strangers.
Jacob dropped them at the thrift store and sped off, as much as horse and buggy could speed. “How will we get home?” Leo asked.
“We’ll figure something out,” Esther said, unconcerned. Leo stood in the middle of the street, staring. He felt like he’d been dropped on another planet, or maybe another century. Esther took his hand and tugged him forward. They entered the store and Esther headed for the Amish section, homemade shirts, skirts, and dresses. Leo retrieved her and pulled her back.
“Something different,” he said.
She scanned the interior of the store with something like panic. “I have no idea what people wear.” Leo couldn’t help, he was equally clueless about women’s fashion. Across the store, he spotted two teenagers who looked like they were hoping to find vintage Prada and about to be royally disappointed. He led Esther to them. They glanced up warily, causing him to wonder if they were skipping school. What was it with children in these parts and their lack of devotion to school? Little deviants.
“Hi, my wife is playing this game with her sister to see who can assemble the best thrift store wardrobe. Our honor is at stake, but we’re both kind of clueless at this stuff. Would you guys mind helping her out?” He pulled Esther forward and shoved her at them.
They scanned her up and down and glanced back at him, smiling now. “Sure.”
“Thanks,” he said, smiling in return. “I’ll be over there.” He pointed to the men’s section and eased away. The girls had already taken Esther in hand and were pulling clothes off the rack for her. They looked like the kind of girls who had their own YouTube channel for makeup tutorials. Satisfied she was in capable hands, he turned his attention to his own clothing, grabbing some denim, flannels, and hoodies without really noticing what was on them, along with a baseball cap. He had planned to slip to the dollar store and buy underpants, but the thrift shop had a selection of new ones, along with socks. Trouvaille, he thought, smiling.
Esther was nowhere in sight when he finished making his selections. He felt a momentary surge of panic until he heard giggles coming from the dressing room. He pictured Esther standing between two giggling teenagers and felt a moment of worry. Were they making fun of her? She would have no idea how to relate to two teenage girls, probably even less than he would. Maybe it was a mistake to foist her on them. He sat and stewed for a while as the giggles grew louder and more excited until at last he couldn’t take it anymore and decided he should intervene. He had just gripped the handles of the chair he sat in when the dressing room curtain was ripped open. The girls stood behind Esther and pushed her forward, the proverbial lamb being led to slaughter. Only she didn’t look like a lamb. She looked…well, she looked normal. Gone were the homemade ankle-length dresses he was used to. In their place, she wore a form-fitting sweater and a pair of jeans, highlighting her slight, yet curvy, figure. They had also taken her hair out of its braid and arranged it in some sort of messy topknot. He took a step forward, squinting. “Are you wearing makeup?”
She nodded. “Lola said it brings out my eyes.”
“So it does,” he agreed.
“She looks hot, doesn’t she? Tell her she looks hot,” one of the girls commanded.
“Hot,” Leo said uncomfortably. Amish Esther, hot. Huh. Awkward.
The girls hugged Esther, and she returned it before fishing in her pocket and giving them each a twenty. “Thank you, girls. Buy yourselves something fun.”
“Aw, man, thanks, Es. Awesome.” They stared at the money with awe. Leo remembered being that age, when twenty bucks felt like a windfall. Who was he kidding? His finances were so abysmal it still felt like a windfall.
They walked to the counter and he felt abashed when Esther pulled out more money and paid for their purchases. Why was he so ridiculously bad with his money? He was a grown man, for goodness sake, one who’d been gainfully employed since becoming an adult. Shouldn’t he have more to show for it than a crummy car and lousy apartment? At what point in life would he stop making excuses and start to get it together?
He had no debt, the only point in his favor. The marines had paid for his college education, saving him from loans. And he didn’t carry a balance on his credit card. It was probably the one positive thing he did in his life, paying off his card every month. But he had no savings, nothing to call his own. Why did he still rent? Why hadn’t he bought a house by now?
You don’t deserve a house. The little voice popped up every time he considered biting the bullet and taking on a mortgage. Leo’s spirits fell. Why did he think himself capable of home ownership? That was for normal people, good people, solid people like Esther and her family. Ridge and Maggie. Families, people who made the world better by being in it. Leo was a liability, had always been a liability. His earliest memories were of trying to stay out of his mother’s way, trying to stay quiet so he didn’t upset her. He had started taking care of himself far before other kids, making boxes of still crunchy macaroni and cheese for supper when he was eight, getting himself up and dressed for school, buying groceries so he’d have something to eat when he was a teen. How could a guy like him ever belong in the suburban world of minivans and soccer moms?
Esther linked her arm with his as they headed back onto the street. “What’s next?”
He stopped short and scanned the town. What was next? He had no idea. Esther, sensing his dismay, took over. “A picnic,” she suggested.
“A picnic,” he agreed, glad to have some direction. They walked to a deli at the end of the street and ordered two lunches to go. They carried them to a park across the street and sat down. Leo sat still, staring at Esther while she arranged their food, fussing over it like usual. “Did you come here a lot when you were a kid?”
“Yes. My parents are still close to their families, despite leaving the Amish community.” She sighed and stared off into the distance.
“What?” He wasn’t actually hungry yet, not after the massive breakfast her aunt had foisted on them, hand delivered by yet another cousin.
“Nothing, I…I never fit.”
“How so?” he asked.
“I loved learning, always. I was a voracious reader, couldn’t get enough. The Amish, they think education leads to pride. It’s why they quit school after eighth grade. To them my thirst for knowledge looked like a thirst for pride.”
“You’re the least proud person I know,” he said. It was true; Esther gave no thought to self.
“I didn’t fit in other ways,” she said.
“What ways?” he asked, suddenly insatiably curious. How had they worked together for the past few months and he hadn’t asked so many fundamental things about her?
“The purpose of a woman’s life here is to get married and make babies.” Her cheeks flushed a soft shade of pink. She opened a mustard packet and added it to her sandwich to give herself something to do.
“And you wanted a career?” he guessed.
She nodded.
“Don’t you want to get married someday and have babies?” he asked.
“That’s not for me,” she said.
“Why not?” he asked.
“Because I’m different.”
“Being different doesn’t preclude you from being a wife and mother, if you want,” he said.
She swallowed hard and shook her head. He sat up. “Esther, what’s this about?”
“I’m not like other women, other people,” she said softly.
“So? Who says you have to be a carbon copy to be worthwhile?” His tone was irritable. Esther was the best and kindest person he knew.
She shook her head, eyes still on her sandwich.
“Hey,” he said, tipping her face to his. “Who made you feel this way? So unworthy?”
“Everybody,” she whispered, and then amended, “Everybody but you.”
“Maybe no one knows you the way I do,” he said.
“If that’s true, why don’t you believe me when I say the same about you?” she countered.
He frowned and dropped his hand. “We’re not talking about me. We’re talking about you. You can be a wife or mother or have a career. You can be anything you want because you are amazing and worthwhile, and anyone who makes you feel otherwise can deal with me.” He reached for his sandwich and took an angry bite.
“Ditto,” she said, her delicate bite stark contrast to his wolverine one.
He rolled his eyes, but his cheeks were too stuffed to make a reply.
“What do you want, Leo?”
He shrugged. She poked him. “If my secret dream is to be normal, to be like other women, what’s yours?”
He chewed and swallowed, pushing the food down a gullet that was suddenly dry. What did he want? He had never asked himself that question before. His entire life felt like he’d been in survival mode. It was hard to want things when he was doing his best to get through each day. But maybe if he had a goal, something to work toward, he would begin to know how to work toward it. “I guess I’d like to have a house. In the country. All my own. With a wood burning stove.” He glanced at her to see how that was received. In his head he knew she wouldn’t laugh at him, but he knew her so well. He’d be able to tell if she thought it was stupid. She looked thoughtful, though. Rather dreamy.
“ Saudade .”
He shrugged. Without his phone, he had no way to look up her words.
“It’s Portuguese, a melancholy longing for something you’ve never had. And really, Leo, I think there’s nothing better you could long for than a home.”
He swallowed hard and looked away. Home. The word had never had a positive connotation for him, but he wanted it to. He wanted a peaceful, happy, relaxing place to ease his many wounds. Could it be possible to heal everything that was wrong with him? Lately he felt like maybe it was. Esther’s words had created some kind of patching effect, a spackle over his raw pieces, and he wanted more of it. More healing, more wholeness. How would it feel to look in the mirror and like the person who stared back at him? Leo had no idea. It was why he had no mirrors.
“I want that for you,” she continued. “I’ll help however I can. We’ll think of a plan. You can have my money.” She perked up, eyes brightening.
“I don’t want your money,” he said.
“Houses are expensive,” she reminded him.
“I know, but…it has to be from me. Does that make sense? It has to be something I do.”
“Yes, I suppose,” she said, sitting back. “At least let me make your curtains. I’m really good at sewing, and curtains are expensive.”
Leo laughed. Right now buying a house seemed like an insurmountable challenge. He had to get his life in order and save for a down payment, but such was Esther’s absolute faith in his ability to do so that she was already mentally sewing his curtains. “Everyone should have a friend like you, Esther.”
She deflated a little. “You’re the only one who believes that, Leo.”
“Then everyone else is wrong,” he said, tearing off another bite of his sandwich.
“You’re a feral eater lately. Kind of terrifying,” she said.
He wagged his brows at her and tore off another bite.
She laughed and took a delicate nibble of her own sandwich.